


Breath of Bliss

by Things_Unspoken



Series: A Twisted Reality [2]
Category: Scottish Actor RPF
Genre: Angst whoa, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Things_Unspoken/pseuds/Things_Unspoken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words come far too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breath of Bliss

You sat on the edge of the bed, burgundy suitcase next to you. It was a wonder that you’d managed to get it zipped, considering how full it was. Everything you could possibly grab – clothes, jewelry, toiletries - you were able to cram it all in. The only thing you couldn’t salvage was your dignity.  
You had shown him everything. You’d let your walls down, told him your secrets, done so many things you wished you could take back with the push of a button. Had you known he’d turn out to be an insensitive asshole, you wouldn’t have let him in. You would have kicked him to the curb right away.  
With a sigh, you rose from your place. You needed air. You needed- 

You weren’t one for smoking. But hey, everyone needs a breath sometimes, and so you’d kept a stash of cigarettes under your pillow for situations like this one. You’d had the same carton for a year now, and only one was missing from it. You were the queen of self-control. You knew you couldn’t get addicted, and so you didn’t. T’was as simple as that.  
The smell of spring flowers was drowned out by the tobacco stench wafting from between your lips now, and you couldn’t help but laugh. There were little reminders in everything around you, reminders about how the bliss was washed away and replaced with a mess. A beautifully twisted reality. Except it didn’t feel like reality.  
You were still convinced you’d wake up from this nightmare.

Peter had stormed out, mumbling something under his breath about you being a little bitch. You didn’t let it get to you, though. More vulgar things had come out of his mouth before, when he was really drunk. You’d sort of grown used to it.  
You found yourself back on the bed, staring at the white wall again. Simplicity; it had been all you’d craved. He couldn’t give that to you. He wouldn’t ever be able to. In his veins ran complexity – it was all he knew. Any other sort of way of living was impossible, it seemed.  
You were a blank canvas, and he was a cacophony of colors.

He came back later that evening, drunk as hell. You weren’t surprised, in fact you’d expected it. All anger was forgotten as he stumbled through the door, and with an arm around his waist you guided him to the room.  
“I don’t want to say I’m leaving,” She whispered as she laid him down. “I’ll stay until the weekend. But after that – if nothing improves – I’ll be but a memory to you.”  
“Don’ want yae to go…” He slurred, eyes half shut.  
He should of thought of that before he said the things he said.  
“I love yae.” He whispered, and it was as though all drunkness was gone. He said that in a completely sober voice.  
“D-do you mean it?” You couldn’t hide the tears rolling down your cheeks now.  
“’Course I do.”  
It was very tempting to curl up next to him then. You wanted to cuddle with him until sunrise. But instead, you strolled out of the room, mind spinning.  
Were you smiling though?  
You bet your ass.


End file.
